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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830002">when I'm thinking, then I'm thinking too much</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syster/pseuds/Syster'>Syster</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jackson the Mood Maker [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>GOT7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A friendly BJ between bros, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jackson Wang, Jackson Wang takes his job as mood maker seriously, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:35:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syster/pseuds/Syster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are you doing?" Jaebeom chokes out, staring at Jackson.</p><p>“Lifting your mood,” Jackson says, looking up and into his face with a sort of curiosity that makes his big, brown eyes look innocent, while his hand presses down a bit harder, traces the outline of hardening flesh underneath Jaebeom’s sweatpants, “How long has it been since you had a good wank?</p><p>or; Jaebeom is tense, Jackson is good at giving head and hey, what if you combine those two things together?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Im Jaebum | JB/Jackson Wang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jackson the Mood Maker [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>when I'm thinking, then I'm thinking too much</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title is from CRJ's too much, also known as the song that dominated my summer 2019</p><p>this work is unbeta'd, which is unfortunate, but we're honestly just gonna have to deal with it like grown-ups.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaebeom stands with clenched fists in front of one of their five million (might be a slight exaggeration) bosses. The only thing more numerous than trainees and assistants is middle managers, every single one of them convinced that they are more important than the artists making them money. Jaebeom hates them. He is naturally inclined towards anger and a firm believer in respect being <em>earned</em> not <em>given</em> and as such, he’s... well, let’s be nice about it and just say that he struggles a bit with situations like these.</p><p>“To be really darned clear, when we ask you to jump, your job is to say <em>how high</em> not laugh in my <em>darn </em>face!” The middle manager screams, voice shrill, and forehead sweaty. He doesn’t swear, because middle-managers have a tendency to gloss over important things (an overworked Yugyeom crying because of a stupid fucking prank) and focus intensely on things that have little to no bearing on anything but the high-horse they have put themselves on (like fucking swearing). Instead, he uses things like darn, and gosh, and it sounds ridiculous and horrible. It makes him sound like a kindergarten teacher, and while Jaebeom respects kindergarten teachers, he does <em>not</em> respect the man in front of him.</p><p>Jackson is standing next to him, leaning back on the balls of his feet, not looking particularly bothered. He can, and does, put on contrition when he needs to, but the middle manager has been yelling for a while now and the only one with a bigger chip on their shoulder than Jaebeom is Jackson. Besides, Jaebeom suspects that Jackson isn’t good enough at Korean yet to hear the absolute stripping down that’s happening between the lines. At the suffixes ending in infantilization rather than respect, at the sneer of words that are used towards children, not grown men. Jaebeom thinks Jackson would’ve been angrier if he understood the situation completely.</p><p>Of course, you might ask: why is Jackson here? A better question is honestly why <em>wouldn’t</em> he be? Of <em>course</em> Jackson is here. When Jaebeom gets in one of his moods, when someone pushes him far enough, Jackson is either the one to bring him out of them or egg him on because Jackson has decided to find it funny. This time Jackson had decided for the latter.</p><p>“And you -” the middle-manager says, sounding like a tea-kettle, turning on Jackson, who widens his enormous, brown eyes and motions to himself with a <em>who, little old me?</em> type of expression, “- you’re the mood maker! Make his <em>gosh darn mood!</em>”</p><p>Jackson blinks at the man, and then does a fucking <em>salute</em> with a wink and a smile, and how is <em>Jaebeom</em> the one considered the problem when Jackson does things like that! The middle-manager looks like he’s about to blow a casket. Jaebeom moves a little bit closer to Jackson without really thinking about it, moving to stand in front of him to shield him. Just as Jaebeom doesn’t notice himself doing this, he also doesn’t notice the way Jackson looks at him a bit consideringly as it is happening.</p><p>They are saved, or the middle-manager is saved, depending on which side of the camp you’re on, from the escalating situation by a knock on the door. The middle-manager barks something into the telecom unit and then does a squeak when an answering crackle apparently says a name that is <em>quite</em> important. He smooths down his hair and waves an impatient hand in their general direction. When neither Jaebeom nor Jackson moves, he snarls, sounding like a chihuahua or another small dog.</p><p>“Get out of my sight!”</p><p>“We gosh darn will -” Jackson says seriously, hitting his fist into his palm before Jaebeom can even open his mouth. Jaebeom mutters and then grabs Jackson’s arm before he can continue, physically dragging him out and past the waiting middle-manager of slightly higher rank than the middle-manager they just left. Jackson’s smile when Jaebeom looks back at him is big and broad, splitting his entire face in two. Jackson hasn’t grown into his handsomeness quite yet, and when he smiles, it’s the most evident, with the way it shows his two large front teeth and broadens his nose. Jaebeom likes it though. The small pieces of imperfections make Jackson look real.</p><p>Jaebeom feels as though his shoulders are tense enough to start crawling physically back into his body. He’s pretty sure that can’t happen, but it sure feels like it can. He releases Jackson’s arm and shoves his hands down into his pockets, his shoulders up around his ears, his jaw clenched so tightly Jaebeom can almost hear his own teeth grinding down.</p><p>Jackson is looking at him from the corner of his eyes, his arms thrown up behind him, shoved down into the neck of his layered long sleeve shirt. Jaebeom pretends not to notice Jackson’s gaze, but then he almost walks into a potted plant in the corridor and has to restrain himself from just chucking it out the nearest window and Jackson snorts a burst of high-pitched laughter.</p><p>“Just relax, leader-nim,” Jackson says with a lazy kind of air, as though he hadn’t just been called into someone's office like a school child. At least a principal <em>meant</em> something. A middle-manager was less useful than the stupid <em>plant</em> Jaebeom still kind of wants to break in two. </p><p>“How can I relax? We are <em>days</em> away from the debut and they’re still changing the songs.” Jaebeom’s voice is low and hard when he answers, “You know I’m not averse to hard work, but fuck, I haven’t had a free evening in three months, I am going to -” He brings his fists up in some kind of aggressive, half-aborted movement. Jackson is just looking at him, one eyebrow raised and the air just... goes out of him, “I’m just <em>tired</em>,” Jaebeom admits, in the same kind of tone someone else would admit they were a murderer, “I’m tired and I want some time alone.”</p><p>When Jaebeom had taken the leader position, he hadn’t necessarily done it hesitantly, but he had been wary of it for a reason. Being the leader of JJProject and the soon-to-be GOT7 were two entirely different beasts. As the leader of GOT7, Jaebeom hasn’t really had any time for himself for almost three months. He’s constantly surrounded by managers, assistants, group members, and... just a <em>lot</em> of people. He’s also nervous. Nervous about the debut. Nervous about being a good leader, of managing a group with large personalities and making them, and everyone else (yes, including all the stupid middle-managers) proud. Jaebeom just wants to do good, and he’s <em>stressed</em> about how it feels like he <em>isn’t</em>.</p><p>“What you wanna do alone that’s so important, hm?” Jackson leers in a way that’s predictable and also really funny, and it does break through the sullen greyness of Jaebeom’s mood. He punches Jackson’s shoulder, <em>lightly</em>, and Jackson predictably reels back as though Jaebeom just hit him over the head with a cement-block. </p><p>“I want to sleep, Jackson. Imagine getting eight hours of uninterrupted sleep,” Jaebeom shakes his head, the anger he’s been feeling finally loosening its grip on his mood. He’s still tense and angry, but it’s... at least he won’t punch someone. Or throw a plant out a window.</p><p>“Sleep, huh?” Jackson sighs, shaking his head, throwing his arm around Jaebeom’s shoulder. Jaebeom stiffens a bit before he relaxes into it. Jackson is all casual touches and over-friendly overtures, in stark difference to Jaebeom. It’s one of the things he has had to get used to, over the last year. Jaebeom makes a grunt in agreement, and they start making their way back to the practice room and out of the endless corridors with its stench of believed self-importance and inconveniently placed potted plants.</p><p>They walk in silence, which, in hindsight, should’ve tipped Jaebeom off to how Jackson was probably up to something. Jackson is never quiet, not completely. He can be serious, of course he can, he’s not perpetually a shivering battery of a person, but he’s never <em>silent</em>. He hums, taps his fingers, shifts his weight, and taps his feet, fiddling with anything he can get his hand on. But he’s quiet now and as they pass a storage closet, Jackson simply grins, opens the door, and kind of yeets Jaebeom inside. Jaebeom is probably naturally stronger, being bigger and broader, but Jackson is fit as fuck and also the most stubborn person Jaebeom has ever met, which is a feat because Jaebeom's best friend is Jinyoung. </p><p>Anyway. Storage closet. Jackson has opened the door, bodily pushed Jaebeom into it and Jaebeom hits the back of the wall with a low <em>oof</em>. Jackson flicks the light on, which is, stereotypically, a lone lightbulb.</p><p>“Jackson, what the fuck?”</p><p>Jackson tilts his head, looking cocky and sly, his grin broad. Before Jaebeom can really do anything, or like, even properly react to the situation, Jackson takes a couple of steps until he is completely up in Jaebeoms business, and then - oh okay, what the fuck - presses one hand against Jaebeom’s crotch. Jaebeom pulls in a sharp breath because - once again - what the fuck, but also <em>oh god</em> - </p><p>“What are you doing?” He chokes out, sounding a lot less forceful than he’d like. He has one hand on Jackson’s forearm, the one attached to the hand currently on his groin, and... well, he’s not <em>not</em> trying to push it away.</p><p>“Lifting your mood,” Jackson says, looking up and into his face with a sort of curiosity that makes his big, brown eyes look innocent, while his hand presses down a bit harder, traces the outline of hardening flesh underneath Jaebeom’s sweatpants, “How long has it been since you had a good wank?”</p><p>“Where do you -” Jaebeom swallows, closing his eyes for a moment as every single blood vessel in his body seemingly roars into life, “- where do you <em>learn</em> these words?”</p><p>“Answer the question, hyung.” Jackson smiles, taking his other hand to remove Jaebeom’s one that is kind of trying to make the hand on his dick <em>not</em> be on his dick. Jackson interlaces their fingers, pushing them away.</p><p>“Fuck, I don’t know, a month maybe?” Jaebeom groans and Jackson makes a low, distressed sound in the back of his throat. Jaebeom just looks at him, sounding a bit incredulous as he speaks, “I don’t really have the <em>time,</em> you know.” </p><p>“You have to <em>make</em> time, hyung,” Jackson says, with an air of wiseness, as though he is on top of a mountain, doling out nuggets of wisdom to random passersby and not stroking Jaebeom to embarrassing hardness in a <em>storage closet</em>, “No wonder you are so tense.”</p><p>“Jackson -” Jaebeom says, not quite sure why he says it. To make Jackson stop, probably. The word <em>stop</em> doesn’t come through though, and Jackson just looks at him, smiling with his front teeth and big grin.</p><p>“Jaebeom,” Jackson says, laughter bright in his voice, but then there is a hum of silence, and Jackson presses closer, pressing their cheeks together, smooth skin against smooth skin, his deep voice lowered into a whisper, “You’re doing good, leader-nim. You’re a good leader.” Jaebeom swallows, closing his eyes, takes a slow, clearing breath, “The best leader, in fact. Just right for the rest of us.” Jackson kisses his cheek, soft and gentle. He pulls back and then they are looking at each other, Jaebeom looking into Jackson’s bright, brown eyes.</p><p>“Thank you,” Jaebeom murmurs, after a second of silence, and at last, the last drips of anger loosens their grip on his mind. </p><p>“You’re welcome.” Jackson grins, “But we’re still dealing with this, you know.” Jackson looks down meaningfully and Jaebeom starts to stutter again, “Oh, c’mon, let me help. I’m really good at it,” Jackson says, a sharp movement of his head showing a <em>lot</em> of pride in that statement.</p><p>“Jackson, I can just - Look, I get it. I’ll just... find some time, alright.” Jaebeom answers, throat very dry, “You don’t have to -”</p><p>“I’ve been part of different groups of highly ambitious, tightly strung guys for most of my teenage and adult years, you know,” Jackson’s touch becomes more deliberate, actually tracing the outline of it, moving his fingers as though jerking him off through the fabric, “I can sense a case of sexual frustration just as well as a shark can smell blood in water.”</p><p>Jaebeom honestly doesn’t know what to say. He’s not exactly... straight, sure, but he’s always placed becoming an idol and working with music higher than any eventual sexual experimentation, and so - well, it’s just - since when does Jackson do <em>this -</em></p><p>“I’m so good at it, hyung,” Jackson coos into Jaebeom’s ear, his voice is so <em>low</em>, so deep and reverberant, “C’mon, let me help.”</p><p>“I - I can do it myself, I -” Jaebeom is becoming <em>hard</em>, not just a bit chubbed, underneath Jackson’s touch, and isn’t that fucking embarrassing.</p><p>“You’ll get stuck in your head, the way you’ve gotten stuck for the past <em>month,</em>” Jackson sighs, as though <em>Jaebeom </em>is the one being difficult, “You’re doing good. We’re all doing good, and we’re doing good <em>because</em> of you. Let me help you out too, leader-nim.”</p><p>“You give me <em>so much shit</em>,” Jaebeom breathes out, “You all do, but you - <em>fuck</em> -” Jackson’s hand tightens a bit, and Jaebeom groans, “- you give me shit <em>constantly</em>.”</p><p>“Well. Yes. But me giving you shit and you being a good leader doesn’t exclude one another. Besides, you like people who push back a bit.” Jackson has released his hand somewhere along the line, but Jaebeom hasn’t put them back to push him away. Instead, he just watches as Jackson falls to his knees, licking his lips, “Hyung, c’mon,” Jackson whines a bit, and, oh, okay, that’s... a <em>thing</em>, apparently. Good to know. Jaebeom feels a bit hysterical.</p><p>Jackson leans forward, presses a kiss to Jaebeom’s hard length over the cotton fabric of the sweatpants, and this time when he looks up, his eyes are a bit hooded, his gaze a bit darker, his breath a bit deeper.</p><p>There is... No air in this room. There can’t be any air, because <em>fuck</em>, Jaebeom can’t <em>breathe</em>.</p><p>In the end, it’s the eyes that do him in. Fuck it, right? Jaebeom has seen better people than him give in to Jackson, and he’s not gonna pretend like... Look, Jackson is hot, okay? It’s - like, fuck, sure, they all rib at the wild and sexy thing, including Jackson himself, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jackson manages to walk around with a snapback with WANG written on it in big letters and make it look good. And without the snapback, he looks... well, he looks a bit like a movie star, from when movies were black and white. And fuck if Jaebeom isn’t the type of pretentious to have watched black and white Sessue Hayakawa with a pillow pressed down into his lap and thought <em>oh</em> with a tight throat and short breath.</p><p>“Yeah. Okay. Sure.” Jaebeom leans his head back against the wall, for just a moment, “Fuck, okay, sure, help me out.”</p><p>Jackson makes a small, pleased noise, and Jaebeom... Jaebeom doesn’t know what to do with that. Doesn’t know what to do with the big, brown eyes and the big, imperfect, beautiful grin, a low voice whispering <em>you’re</em> <em>good</em> and then that happy little sound when Jaebeom said <em>yeah, sure</em>, as though Jaebeom is the one doing Jackson a favor.</p><p>Jaebeom hisses slightly as Jackson pulls at his pants, at the string holding the elastic a bit tighter together. Jaebeom shifts his weight, lifts his hips from the wall to make it easier for Jackson to pull his pants down. He looks down at himself, wearing a pair of his shittiest boxers (no time for laundry either, for a while now), the threadbare fabric tenting a bit. Jackson pulls those down as well and looks at Jaebeom’s heavy, swelling cock. Jaebeom swallows as Jackson blinks.</p><p>“Oh, you’re big,” Jackson says, looking up, making a small <em>ooh</em> sound as he does, “Man, you just want to best me physically in every way, don’t you? The shoulders are just unfair, and this -” Jackson’s hand traces a touch over bare, hot flesh, and Jaebeom <em>hisses</em> as Jackson’s skin touches his, “- feels a bit like overkill.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Jaebeom says, going for sarcastic but landing somewhere in between sarcasm and breathless instead, “C’mon, Jackson -”</p><p>“I’m not the one who has been fighting it, hyung.” Jackson says, a bit sullenly, grasping Jaebeom’s cock in his hand and tugging his hand from base to tip once, “But sure, I’ll make it quick.” </p><p>Jackson presses close, and Jaebeom places a hand in Jackson’s short hair, pulling it back a bit. Jackson makes a small, pleased sound as he presses his lips against the base of Jaebeom’s cock, broad tongue slipping out between his lips to lap at the hot, burning skin. Jackson’s hand, the one on Jaebeom’s cock, moves where Jackson’s mouth isn’t, smearing the pre-cum leaking from the head onto the entire cock. Jaebeom swells into full hardness as Jackson licks a long stripe of wet along the underside of his cock, following the vein underneath it with his tongue, ending it with a wet kiss against the head. Jackson pulls back a bit, looking concentrated, and then he opens his mouth. His tongue and lips are spit-slick and shining as he trickles out some spit onto Jaebeom’s cock, using his hand to spread it out.</p><p>Is that hot? Is that supposed to be hot? Fuck, Jaebeom doesn’t even know anymore, all he knows is that the sight makes Jaebeom feel a bit feral, at Jackson wetting his cock to make the slide easier and slicker. Jaebeom groans, leaning his head back and closes his eyes.</p><p>Jackson’s low voice is bright as he speaks, a small giggle simmering across the edges, </p><p>“Yeah, just imagine I’m a girl if that makes it easier, hyung.” There is more wetness over the head, more teasing warmth, Jackson flicking his tongue over the swollen head of Jaebeom’s cock, teasing the slit on top, making Jaebeom take another sharp inhale of breath.</p><p>“Uh, yeah, sure, whatever,” Jaebeom answers because he’s not dealing with this right now. He will not deal with how it’s - it’s not just the <em>mouth</em>, and the <em>wet</em>, and the <em>heat</em>. It’s Jackson’s short, soft hair against his fingers, it’s Jackson’s low voice, it’s his stupid <em>giggle</em>. Jaebeom is so fucking turned on, and he’ll examine that <em>later</em>.</p><p>Jackson continues, sliding his lips and tongue over Jaebeom’s cock, at one point kissing Jaebeom’s cock sloppily all over with an amused, teasing air. At another, he is flicking little kitten licks against the sensitive skin just beneath the cock’s head, making Jaebeom hiss and stutter. And in between those, he flattens his tongue and <em>licks</em>, laps at each bead of pre-cum, humming pleased as he drags his tongue from root to tip. He pauses for a while to tug Jaebeom’s cock with his hand, his hand given slick friction as he twists it, thumb a steady pressure at the vein underneath Jaebeom’s cock, teasingly licking at Jaebeom’s balls, pressing teasingly sucking kisses against them.</p><p>“Jackson -” Jaebeom breathes out, tightening his hand in Jackson’s hair, and Jackson makes another low sound at that, hoarse and honest, “Jackson - c’mon -”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jackson licks his lips, takes a breath, “Yeah, I wanna suck you off.” Jackson places one hand on Jaebeom’s thigh, the other on his hip, his breath coming fast as it puffs over Jaebeom’s wet, leaking cock. Jackson looks up, finds Jaebeom watching him, and does a small smile, leaning forward, pressing a kiss against the head of Jaebeom’s cock.</p><p>“Such a good leader,” Jackson purrs, flicking his tongue out to catch the escaping drip of pre-cum, “Such a good, <em>good</em> leader.” Jackson opens his mouth, slides Jaebeom in between his lips, but then pulls back, frowning a bit, gathers more spit in his mouth, dribbles it on Jaebeom’s large cock. Jackson then leans back down, opening his mouth a bit wider, this time swallowing around the cock as he goes.</p><p>Fuck, <em>fuck, </em>it’s all warm, tight heat, Jackson’s lips stretched around him. Jackson’s eyes are closed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he slides down on Jaebeom’s cock, looking so fucking good. Shit. Shit shit shit -</p><p>Jaebeom puts his hand back in Jackson’s hair, tightens his fingers a bit. He needs to... He needs to hold onto something, and Jackson’s the steadiest thing in here. Jackson hums at that, his gaze flicking up, the brown of his eyes warm and trusting, and then he closes them again, pushing further down, Jaebeom sliding deeper. He is almost - he is so deep, he’s almost -</p><p>Jackson splutters, quickly pulling away, gasping a breath. His chin shines with spit and cum, his eyes tearing at the corners, his mouth open and swollen. Jaebeom takes a breath, tries to force his grip on Jackson’s hair open so that Jackson can pull away completely, tamping down the heat and fire coursing through him.</p><p>“Uh, we can stop, I - uh -” Jaebeom starts, hoarse and breathless, but Jackson looks up, his eyes flashing.</p><p>“Don’t you dare. You’re the biggest one I’ve had, hyung, but I ain’t a quitter. I’ll take you all the way down, don’t doubt me.” Jackson swallows, taking a deep breath, tightening his hands where they rest on Jaebeom’s thigh and hip, “Just.. give me a moment. It’s been a while.”</p><p>Jaebeom is suddenly awash with images of Jackson in front of a group of nameless men, training to fucking <em>deepthroat</em> with the same kind of distilled focus he learns new choreography, what the fuck - he groans as Jackson presses close, licks once more, teasing the slit of the head with his tongue, and then pushes his mouth back down over Jaebeom’s cock. This time, he actually goes deeper, groaning as Jaebeom slides deep, his throat and mouth working, wet and tight and hot.</p><p>When Jaebeom enters Jackson’s throat, Jaebeom just stares at Jackson on his knees beneath him, looking at Jackson’s hooded eyes, the dazed, wet look of those big fucking brown eyes, full red lips, his stupid fucking short hair grasped tightly in Jaebeom’s hand, his baggy clothes. Jackson’s nose suddenly presses against Jaebeom’s pelvis, and Jaebeom - Jaebeom thinks he can see the outline of his cock down Jackson’s throat. Jackson swallows around him, a line of spit slipping down his chin as he gazes up, meeting Jaebeom’s gaze.</p><p>“Fuck, Jackson, <em>fuck</em> -” Jaebeom groans, “God, I’m so deep, you’re so - No one’s ever taken me all the way -”</p><p>Jackson moans, and sucks, starts to work himself up and down over Jaebeom’s cock, eagerly, sloppily. It’s so good, it’s so fucking hot and good, the way Jackson is moving, sliding Jaebeom back into his throat again, his throat undulating around the head. Jaebeom is so fucking turned on he’s almost afraid of cumming because he can only imagine it’s gonna fucking hurt, coming when you’re this fucking hard and turned on.</p><p>“Jackson - Jackson, I’m gonna -” Jaebeom says as his vision blurs a bit, his breath rasping as it escapes his lungs.</p><p>Jackson hums, not sliding up but rather pressing Jaebeom deeper, convulsing his tongue with an obscene fucking sound, a deep, wet slurp, and a muffled moan. It's that filthy sound that makes Jaebeom come, and Jackson swallows around him as his cock twitches out thick, heavy cum in long ropes down Jackson’s throat. Jaebeom leans forward, both his hands on Jackson’s head and fuck - the world feels a bit unreal, as though his orgasm just knocked it a bit off-kilter. Jackson taps his thigh, a bit urgently, and Jaebeom curses, releasing his hold so that Jackson can pull back. His cock is released from Jackson’s mouth with a wet <em>pop</em>, and some of his cum trickles out of Jackson’s mouth, dribbling down his chin. Jackson presses his forehead against Jaebeom’s thigh, looking up at him, mouth half-open, wet and slick, spit and cum on his cheek and chin, and he looks eager, like the puppy he so often likens himself to. Oh. Oh, Jaebeom knows what to do when Jackson looks like that.</p><p>“You did well, Jackson-ah. Thank you,” Jaebeom reaches out a shaking hand, pressing it against Jackson’s cheek and Jackson leans into the touch with a sigh. For a moment they stay like that, and then Jackson turns his head and presses a kiss against Jaebeom’s palm. </p><p>“Mm, thank you, leader-nim.” Jackson says, voice <em>ruined</em>, hoarse and pleased, “The best leader in the whole world.”</p><p>Jaebeom feels warm and relaxed. Jaebeom feels ready to take on the world and any middle-manager that wants to tell him he needs to<em> calm down</em>. Jaebeom also feels ready to press Jackson back against and make Jackson cum like a bitch, make him shake and shiver and cum twitching on the floor. Some of that must’ve shown in Jaebeom’s eyes, because Jackson does a low, deep chuckle, but it sounds more like it’s his giggle that can’t go high enough to be called one because he just took Jaebeom’s entire cock down his throat.</p><p>“No, it’s fine I already came!” Jackson grins, motioning down at himself as though Jaebeom could somehow see it, “My old teammates used to joke about how it seemed like I had a g-spot in the back of my throat instead of a gag-reflex.” Jackson laughs, low and attractive and Jaebeom just stands there, thinking about the implications of that sentence, looking at Jackson who is dusting off his knees as he gets up from the floor, “I don’t, by the way, it would’ve been a lot <em>easier</em> if I didn’t have a gag reflex. It was a <em>bitch </em>to train away, but hey. I got there.”</p><p>“You sure did.” Jaebeom mutters and then snorts, bending down to pull up his underwear and his pants, wincing a bit at the fabric over-sensitive, spent flesh. Jackson shoves a hand against his shoulder.</p><p>“Don’t look like that! You're not the one who has to walk around in their <em>cum</em> until we get home.” Jackson laughs and throws an arm around JB’s shoulder, wiping his face with his sleeve. Jaebeom follows the motion, looks at Jackson's puffy red lips and big bright smile. They walk out into the corridor, crashing almost immediately into a stupid palm tree put <em>right</em> in the middle of the damn hallway. But Jaebeom just laughs, turning around to lean his head against Jackson’s shoulder. Jackson gives a woop, a pure and delighted kind of sound. </p><p>“Mood fucking <em>made</em>, right? God, I’m so fucking good,” Jackson cackles, pressing a quick kiss against the crown of Jaebeom’s head before hurrying forward, walking a bit funnily until he finds his usual swagger. Jaebeom doesn’t know where he’s hurrying off to. To suck off Jinyoung, maybe. Or Mark. Jaebeom wonders if there is any way he could watch his entire team take turns ruining Jackson’s pretty, red mouth. He snorts, shaking his head. He stretches his entire body out, feeling loose and relaxed and amused. Fuck. Mood made, <em>indeed</em>. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey, i asked myself while looking out into a rainy december morning, what if i dealt with the frustrations of excessive administration at my University by writing the second blow job scene in a week?</p><p>great idea, self, i say as i open up a new document.</p><p>this did not even score a 5 on my friends 'weirdness' scale. i'll do better for next time, i promise.</p><p>comments and kudos make my entire day.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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